joan of arc
by CRYPT1D
Summary: new responsibilities that fall upon a junior warrior with a quickness will bring a forest to its knees.
1. a beginning

Mothfoot rests a clump of lavender on a limp, broken body. She steps back and sits by her brother, observing as Cindertail takes her place and drops chamomile from her jaws. The dark grey molly falters, squinting her eyes before letting her legs collapse underneath her and falling onto the body.

"Cindertail," begins another, but he is cut off by the looming Marigoldstar.

The Leader says, "leave her be, Mottlefur," and gazes down at Cindertail weeping into her father's pelt. The tom flattens his ears sheepishly.

Above the mourning sobs, Marigoldstar begins speaking. "Tallscar was one of the bravest toms I've ever met— and throughout my nine lives, I've seen many of them. Out of the pawful of deputies I've had the honor of serving with, he will remain my closest companion." She eyes the body before her. "We lost him today. We lost him to a heartless Riverclan patrol that would not listen to reason. You should all know _very_ well that I will be bringing this up to Heronstar at the Gathering that is quickly approaching."

"It's awful," Copperhawk whispers to Mothfoot. "Imagine losing Stormcloud like that."

Mothfoot shudders at the thought. She glances over at her own father, who is staring blankly at the body. She can't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. The senior Warrior just lost one of his oldest friends, now being forced to watch as the cat's daughter sobs over his corpse. "I don't even want to think about it," Mothfoot replies flatly.

"Who do you think Marigoldstar is going to choose as his replacement?" Copperhawk asks, eyes transfixed on the Leader. Mothfoot can see right through him. What he's really asking is: _do you think it'll be me? _

Her brother has mooned over the idea of becoming Leader since kithood, as most cats do. Ever since their apprenticeship, he's been clawing for their Leader's special attention. But, admittedly, Mothfoot has never been able to see her brother leading a Clan. The tom is scatterbrained and has a habit of jumping in decisions without much thinking— two traits you _don't_ want in a Leader. Mothfoot takes a second to debate with herself over who in the Clan could be a good enough replacement for Tallscar. She's left indecisive.

Cindertail was the last cat to pay their respects to the fallen Deputy. By now, others have shuffled their way away from the scene to mourn and share memories. The two cats chosen to help bury the body stand nearby, one comforting Cindertail enough to get her to rise and allow them to carry him away. Marigoldstar nods to them as they go to exit the camp. "I'm putting a strict curfew on the Clan until further notice. No one is to leave after sunset; there will be a night patrol under my lead," she concludes and leaps down from her stone. The tall molly pads past the siblings and Mothfoot notes how long she keeps her eyes steady on them.

"Beautiful ceremony," Copperhawk mews to her.

Marigoldstar stops for a second. "Indeed," she responds shortly before continuing her gait to her den. Cloudwhisker, the medicine cat, follows behind her.

"Did you see that?" Copperhawk nearly sings, "She was practically _gawking_ at us! Do you think it was a good move to say something?"

"Sure," Mothfoot says. She doesn't think it was a good move at all. She's frankly embarrassed whenever her brother says much of anything.

She scans the Clan. Everyone seems tense and many heads are turned towards the Leaders' den. Marigoldstar's time starts now. The sun is centered in the sky, not leaving the molly not long to decide who the new Deputy will be.

"Mothfoot, Copperhawk." The voice of their mother snaps Mothfoot back into reality. "How are the two of you doing?"

Copperhawk speaks for both of them. "We're alright, thanks."

"I know you two didn't know Tallscar very well or for very long, but I have to remind you how close he was to your father." Hazeltuft gestures to Stormcloud with a wave of her tail. "He would visit the two of you when you were just born as much as Stormcloud would."

"Did he?" Mothfoot asks, unaware until now that Tallscar had any interest in them.

Hazeltuft nods, reminiscing. "The other Queens were very jealous I had the most handsome toms in the clan fawning over my wellbeing." She chuckles softly to herself. "I'm sure… he will be missed dearly by the whole Clan."

"We know," Copperhawk says.

Their mother's gaze seems to harden on him. "Which is why I have to remind you two to be careful when interacting with the older Warriors. Be kind, be thoughtful, be respectful."

Those three ideals have been imprinted in the minds of the siblings since they could open their eyes. Mothfoot replies, "of course," and dips her head. Copperhawk mutters something like _yeah, yeah, _and she wants to swipe him in the head. _How are we the same age yet he has the maturity of a 2-week old kittypet?_ The molly thinks to herself.

"Be especially gentle to your father. He's in a very fragile state." With that, Hazeltuft leaves to share tongues with the other mollies.

Mothfoot finds her eyes traveling to her father once more. Stormcloud still sits where he was before, eyes still locked where they were before, the tears welling up and staining his face just as they were before.

It's going to be a long time before the Clan heals.

—

Copperhawk calls to his sister from over his shoulder, "come on, turtle-paws! Keep up!" He bolts across the forest floor, dodging branches and rocks that lay in his wild path.

Mothfoot falls almost begrudgingly behind, continuing to taste the air in all directions just in case. The siblings were not put on the night patrol. They were told by the mother to stay in the camp. Mothfoot herself put up a fight, but no— Copperhawk _needed_ to get out of the camp.

"_What if something happens?" Copperhawk said, bristling as he eyed the entrance. "What if they trip up and don't see someone coming? The forest is full of blind spots at night."_

"_Exactly," Mothfoot argued, "which is why you can play hero with the apprentices in the morning."_

_Copperhawk scowled. "I'm going."_

And so, Mothfoot _had_ to follow. If she didn't, who knows what her mother would do if something happened to him. _Getting caught together and safe, _she thinks, _is better than him being _found_ alone._

The tom races forward as if he has any idea as to where he's going to end up. His plan, as he said when they were leaving, was to stay out of the patrol's line of sight while sticking close behind. They have yet to find the patrol.

"Copperhawk," Mothfoot hisses, "slow down! Your paws don't even know where they're taking your body."

He steadies himself to a halt, sister coming up to his side and panting. "I know they're around here somewhere," he says. "This is the exact route I took on my last night patrol."

"They might have changed the course, mousebrain," Mothfoot replies. "For all we know, Riverclan could be waiting at the turning point for an ambush."

"And if they are, we'll fight them off. That way, the patrol won't have to worry."

Mothfoot narrows her eyes. "You must have a fly in your brain because _I'm_ staying out of this. One _breath_ of Riverclan and I'm turning back."

"You call yourself a warrior?" Copperhawk spits, "Mothfoot, this is serious. What if something happens to Marigoldstar? She hasn't even picked a new Deputy yet."

The fur on Mothfoot's neck stands up straight. "_Fine,_ Copperhawk," she hisses back, "you go on ahead, but I'm taking the blame for _nothing_ that happens if we get caught."

The tom turns tail and continues in his chosen direction, much slower than before. Mothfoot stalks behind him, frustration growling in her throat.

After they get a few tree-lengths away, they hit the river. The water cuts Thunderclan's territory off. The other side belongs to Riverclan, and the natural border is thick with their scent, even from the distance Mothfoot stands. Mothfoot instinctively flattens her ears against her head. "Copperhawk," she says, "something doesn't feel right."

Copperhawk either does not hear her or care to, as he pads closer to the water's edge. The brown molly watches her brother with intensity as he examines his surroundings. They've reached the turning point; this is where the usual night patrol would head back to camp. She doesn't like how long he's lingering.

"Copperhawk, I—"

There isn't an opportunity to finish her thought. In a flash, Copperhawk's form is knocked to the ground. He hits the soil with a loud _thud_, followed by his cry of shock. Mothfoot sees the shadow of a larger figure pin her brother down, it's head thrashing about as it tries to bite down on him. She knows that she should be bolting to his side, lunging at the attacker and saving her brother. She _knows_ this, but her paws don't move. She freezes in place, eyes widening with horror and she witnesses her brother be clawed at and helplessly try to counter the blows.

Then, a streak of white comes up from behind the two. Though it is dark, Mothfoot can clearly see a slim, white cat slither its way towards them. She is too far to hear what the cat says, but it gets the larger shadow off of her brother. A tail lashes towards the river, ordering whoever to, presumably, go back to its territory. Mothfoot feels her blood go cold as what seems to be glowing, amber eyes locked directly on her. They blink, turn, and disappear over the river.

Heartbeats go on. Mothfoot creeps slowly towards Copperhawk. He breathes heavily, shakily keeping an inconsistent rhythm. The smell of his blood fills her senses. Mothfoot feels tears building up in her eyes. The tom weakly looks up at her and croaks, "_don't._"

But Mothfoot knows that she has to, and opens her jaws to yowl.

"_Help!_"


	2. a decision

It didn't take long for the night patrol to locate them. And as their father rushes to his son's side in horror, Mothfoot feels her heart race with fear once more. The rest of the patrol grabs Copperhawk by whatever is left of his scruff and eases him between two cat's shoulders. Slowly, they begin their walk back to camp.

Marigoldstar is the only one who remains. The older molly eyes Mothfoot carefully, seeming to be deep in thought. "You need to get back," she says, turning away.

The brown molly follows her Leader closely and in silence. The walk back to the camp feels like it takes moons.

Once past the threshold, Mothfoot can catch a glimpse of Cloudwhisker busying himself with the wounded tom, ordering Rainpaw to fetch him this and that. Stormcloud sits outside of the den, back facing the entrance. He makes eye contact with Mothfoot and she can plainly see the worry in his stare.

She longs to go to him, but Marigoldstar ushers her towards her instead.

Cautiously, Mothfoot approaches.

"Please, Marigoldstar, forgive us for being out past curfew. I know that it was wrong and _stupid_ for us to go out, but he— _we_ did it with the best intent and—"

The cream molly silences her with a wave of her tail. "I don't need to hear your apologies, kit. I just need to hear what happened."

"Ma'am?" Mothfoot says, confused. She assumed that the Leader who leads with a stone claw would be furious to know that two of her followers blatantly disobeyed.

"What happened out there? Why is your littermate beaten and bloody— and why are _you_ completely clean?"

Mothfoot tries to gather the events that just occurred in order. "We… we decided to go for a walk. Copperhawk was very anxious about the state of the Clan and I thought that it would help. I guess we wandered too close to the border and… someone from Riverclan attacked him."

"From Riverclan?" Marigoldstar asks, body immediately hardening. "You're sure of this?"

The warrior nods. "I watched them both leap over the river. I couldn't make them both out— but I know one of them was white."

"White," Marigoldstar snarls to herself. She glares fires into the ground, ears pricking in all directions as if a thousand voices are speaking to her at once. "If Heronstar doesn't think I'll be bringing this up at the Gathering, he is _very wrong_."

"Ma'am," Mothfoot ventures, "what's going to happen with Copperhawk and me?"

The Leader pauses her anger, looks back at Mothfoot, and almost seems to soften. "Nothing will happen to you, kit. I applaud your bravery."

"My… bravery?"

Marigoldstar says, "you faced a great threat tonight. Without you, your brother wouldn't have made it back to camp with his life. You should be proud of yourself, Mothfoot."

For a moment, Mothfoot is surprised Marigoldstar even remembers her name. The last time the Leader addressed her by name was her warrior ceremony, and while that wasn't long ago, more significant events have come and gone in between. "I don't think I did much," she replies.

"But you did, and you should be _proud_ of it."

The reactions of Hazeltuft and Stormcloud went just as Mothfoot expected. Stormcloud reverted back into a state of silent staring into the distance, and Hazeltuft swiftly took to an odd mixture of coddling and scolding her kits.

"How is he?" Mothfoot asks the morning after the incident, feeling a thick lump of nerves gather in her throat.

Hazeltuft sighs. "Cloudwhisker didn't let me back there for very long. He has a couple of nasty scars— but you know your brother, he'll call them heroic. Other than that, he's alright. Cloudwhisker said he leveled himself out fairly quickly after arriving."

"Oh," Mothfoot says. She pauses for a few heartbeats, studying her mother closely. The senior warrior has her shoulders hunched and ears tilted backward, fur bristling and mind wandering somewhere else. "I'm sorry, Mama."

The older molly subtly flinches. She softens her stance and rests her muzzle on her daughter's head. "Don't be, love. Marigoldstar told me what happened. You did all you could, and your father and I don't cast any blame towards you."

"I don't think I did much…" Mothfoot winces, thinking back to how helpless she felt and how her paws froze to the ground like the river in leaf-bare. "But I'm glad to hear you aren't upset with me. I know I'm supposed to watch him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble, but—"

Hazeltuft chuckles softly. "_I'm _his mother, Mothfoot. Leave it to me to take care of him."

Marigoldstar's voice then cuts across the camp clearing like the roar of a monster. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath me for a brief meeting."

The long-legged she-cat waits upon her stone, eyeing her Clan as it takes it's time to assemble. Once the last able cat settles in, she continues to speak. "Last night, Riverclan attacked two of our most innocent warriors."

A few who hadn't heard gasp quietly.

"Copperhawk now lays in Cloudwhisker's den, badly wounded by, from what Mothfoot has told me, is a white, Riverclan she-cat. This, to me, is a very clear sign that Riverclan does not plan on letting their issue with Thunderclan die peacefully. And if I know my Clan, I know that you all will not take this sitting down."

There are a few chirps of agreement.

Marigoldstar takes a single step forward, puffing her chest out and making herself look even more regal than she already does. Her tail is high, bent at the tip. Her eyes burn intensely. "The Gathering is in a few sunrises. There, I will confront Heronstar himself. Whatever happens after, we will be prepared to take head on."

The chirps turn into yowls, those around Mothfoot releasing their _mrows!_ of frustration and loyalty into the morning air.

"With that being said," the Leader continues, "I will need a right paw to stand beside me during these trying times."

Everyone hushes down. Mothfoot feels her mother's pelt bristle and watches as the senior warrior's eyes flicker over to her mate. _Does she think that Marigoldstar is going to pick Stormcloud?_ The black tom is looking directly at the golden molly.

"You've waited patiently past the deadline to hear who will be succeeding Tallscar— and for this, I apologize. But admittedly, I did not know who to choose that could match his tact and bravery. However, I believe I now know. This cat showed me that they are willing to lay their life down for the protection of others. They have exhibited great progress through their time serving as a Thunderclan warrior, and are therefore deserving of the title of Deputy."

Marigoldstar meets Mothfoot's stare. _No…_ she thinks, _no!_ _I can't—_

"Mothfoot," the Leader says.

As if on cue, the Clan breaks out into cries of shock and disapproval. She hears someone not too far away go, "she's barely older than my son! An apprentice!" and another exclaim, "there are strict rules to becoming a Deputy!"

With a drawn-out hiss, Marigoldstar calls for order. "Do you all dare to question my decision? Is there not one of you who trust and believe in your Leader to make the proper choice?"

There's a cold wave of nothing. No one mutters a word as the golden-furred molly glares sharp claws throughout her Clan. "Mothfoot," she says again, eyes only changing slightly when she looks at her warrior again, "will you join me up here?"

She hesitates a moment. It isn't until Hazeltuft prods her with a paw that she starts moving. Cautiously and gently, Mothfoot shuffles her way through the crowd. She stares up at the ledges leading to Marigoldstar, using all the power in her legs to stumble her way up the stone. Every trip she makes sends a burning heat of embarrassment to her face. When the brown molly finally settles at the top, Marigoldstar gestures her closer.

"Mothfoot, you are a young warrior. It has only been a few moons since you've passed apprenticeship, but within all of the events I've seen unfold around you, you have shown a level of loyalty and strength akin to the late Tallscar."

Someone below scoffs. Mothfoot hopes deep down that Cindertail is not offended by this statement.

"Do you accept the honor and privilege of serving alongside me, even with the impending challenges ahead of us?"

_Oh, Starclan! What do I do? _Mothfoot cries in silent prayer. _I can't say no… can I?_

Quieter now, Marigoldstar says, "I believe in you, kit. I will guide you."

Something about her tone makes the nerves in Mothfoot's stomach settle a bit. "I… I do," Mothfoot manages to choke out.

Marigoldstar purrs, pleased she's won. "Then tonight, Mothfoot will accompany me to the Mooncreek to gain her acceptance from Starclan. In the meantime, I expect you all to give her the same respect you gave to Tallscar and that you give to me. You are dismissed."


	3. a dream

_Just wanted to preface this with a thank you for the kind reviews so far! This one is a bit short, it didn't feel right to make a sudden transition to something else in such a weighty chapter._

* * *

Mothfoot feels the ache in her paws getting worse every step she takes. The herb bundle prepared by Rainpaw didn't go down very easily, leaving her to wonder if it ended up working at all. Not that she was paying much attention to what went into the mixture anyway, she was too busy trying to catch a glimpse of her brother.

"_You can go say something if you want," Cloudwhisker said. "He's been doing okay."_

_Mothfoot felt her heart jump. "Okay…" she says sheepishly, padding past the medicine cat and towards the deeper part of the den._

_It branched off into two smaller caves; one was barren and the other held the silhouette of Copperhawk. He was there with his back to the entrance, ribs rising and falling with heavy breath. _

Mothfoot shakes the thoughts from her head and asks, "not to be a bother but… how much further ahead is it?"

The leader casts a glance over her shoulder, but to Mothfoot's relief, doesn't look offended or irritated. "We should be there before long," she says, ears pricking around to pick up on the smaller nighttime sounds.

The evening air is cool. The small bursts of wind against Mothfoot's pelt feels nice, and it carries along with it scents from all over the forest. They're traveling through the neutral territory, so there are hints of all types of Clan smells around. Still, she can't help but feel a little weary. Riverclan has been causing way too much stress lately, and Mothfoot can't help but wonder if that's what Marigoldstar is listening for. The brown molly takes a second to really taste the air for any signs of wet fur. _Nothing, thankfully,_ she thinks to herself. _If we can make it there and back without any interruptions, _maybe_ I'll believe this was the slightest bit a good idea._

Mothfoot has been thinking about Marigoldstar's decision since they took off just to pass the time. She has finally come to the conclusion that soon, the leader will come to her senses and realize that she made a heat of the moment choice. A more well-deserving cat will take her place, and she no longer will have to worry about the whole Clan turning against her.

"We're here, Mothfoot," Marigoldstar says.

The young warrior has never seen the Mooncreek, and now that the whole stretch of water is in sight, she knows why Rainpaw used to gush about the trip. The water itself bounces the moonlight off in an odd way. It casts a slight glow, looking to be a bright, clear blue-green rather than the dull grey the rivers around the territory are. Mothfoot follows Marigoldstar as she pushes past a thick barrier of reeds.

"There's a natural moss bed all the way along the creek," she explains, "this is where the medicine cats lay when speaking with our ancestors." The golden molly gestures with her tail further down to where the creek gets its water from, a collection of smooth stones that gradually raise along a small hill. Water cascades down them, creating an almost soothing sound. The base of the small waterfall sends up droplets of water, tiny white flecks that remind Mothfoot of stars.

The mollies pad to the stones. "The leaders gather here. We all come forward one by one and touch our noses to the water." As an example, Marigoldstar dips her head down. "You'll feel a bit sleepy right after, so go on ahead and take your turn." As she says this, she leaps up onto one of the stones and lays down, curling her tail gracefully around her body.

Cautiously, Mothfoot lowers herself and gently dabs her nose into the water. Right away, she feels her eyes get heavier and heavier after every blink. She brings herself over to a lower stone and lays down, groggily gazing at an already sleeping Marigoldstar. The brown she-cat rests her head on her paws and shuts her eyes tight.

"_Hey," Mothfoot said, making sure not to startle Copperhawk's form._

_The figure didn't twitch, but his free ear swiveled to pick up her sound._

_Mothfoot sighed. "I know, I know. I should have visited this morning. I'm sorry, a lot has happened since then and—"_

"_You've had a busy day. I get it." The way the tom said 'busy' made her stomach feel like a tree falling. "I've been sitting in a cave. I'm not dead, much to everyone's disappointment."_

_The molly squinted. "Who said they were disappointed you weren't dead, Copperhawk? Stormcloud looked like he was about to faint when he saw you there."_

"_No one has to say it," Copperhawk snapped, "I can tell."_

_Mothfoot felt a pelt brush up against hers. Cloudwhisker stood in between them and gave Mothfoot a long, hard look. "I think Copperhawk needs a couple more poppy seeds in his system."_

"_...Right," Mothfoot replied shortly, exiting the entire den at a fast pace. _

_But, as she looked around the camp, all she could see was water flooding all of the caves and crashing against the Highstone in a wave. The sudden ocean washed her clanmates out of their dens, the sound of yowls and cries filling her ears. The only thing the water didn't touch was her— and another cat who sat calmly at the entrance to the camp._

_Something about the cat was hard to make out. Try as Mothfoot might, she couldn't get a clear image of what they looked like. They were blurry and far, even as they approached Mothfoot. With every step they took, the rushing water parted for them to pass through. They came right up to Mothfoot, the two meeting almost nose to nose. The figure still seemed as if Mothfoot was looking into her reflection underwater, all rippled and misshapen._

_The cat touched their nose to her's, and—_

Mothfoot jolts awake, coughing and sputtering water out of her mouth and nose.

Beside her, Marigoldstar rests a paw on her shoulder. "Your muzzle slipped into the creek," she says, a hint of a laugh in the back of her throat. "Don't sleep so close to the water next time you're here, I don't need you drowning on me."

"Marigoldstar I— this dream I just had, it—" The young warrior can barely get the words out, not exactly sure how to explain what she just saw.

The leader hushes her. "Vivid dreams are normal here. But the fact that you dreamt at all is a very good sign, kit. It means Starclan sent it to you."

"But… it was so… _wrong_," Mothfoot breathes.

"Perhaps you can tell Cloudwhisker about it when we return, hmm? If it seems that important to you." Marigoldstar turns away. Suddenly, Mothfoot feels foolish for making such a big deal about her dream.

As the two mollies begin their trek back to the camp, Mothfoot thinks to herself, _Marigoldstar has been Leader for moons. She _has_ to know what she's talking about. There have been two Deputies before me— this is probably normal. _Still, her eyes flicker up towards the Silverpelt. _Were you trying to tell me something? No… they couldn't be. If they wanted to send a message to someone, it would be Cloudwhisker. I'm barely a Deputy._


	4. an accident

_Took a short break to recover my burn out! I hope this being a bit of a long one makes up for my absence._

* * *

The sun is lifting over the horizon by the time Mothfoot reaches the camp again. Marigoldstar's jaws open wide in a yawn. "Dawn patrol needs to be assembled," she says, pushing her way through the bramble-covered entrance. "I'm leaving that up to you."

"You're kidding, right?" Mothfoot asks.

The older she-cat chirps. "I am absolutely _not _joking, kit. I told you I'd train you to be a good Deputy, and this is your first test. I want to see the kind of patrol you'll put together." She adds, "don't worry, I'll make adjustments as needed," when she spots the alarmed look on Mothfoot's face.

Marigoldstar pads away towards her den, leaving Mothfoot without another word or the slightest hint as to what makes a good patrol. The young molly looks around to see who is awake and sharing tongues in the early light.

Cloudwhisker and Rainpaw have wet moss in their mouths, wringing the water out over a small patch of herbs they're tending to. An elder molly watches the clouds under a shady tree. The first suitable duo she spots is two junior warriors like herself. Swiftbreeze and Robinclaw are huddled by a tree log, legs tucked neatly underneath their bodies and laughing quietly amongst themselves.

Mothfoot remembers less than fondly how they treated her during her apprenticeship. Even though the brown molly is the eldest of the three, they somehow always managed to get under her skin in the slightest ways. Copperhawk would always come to her defense when they criticized her technique. _I wonder who he'd pick…_ she thinks, _he'd probably _never _put them on patrols. Just keep them inside the camp all day. But no— this is _my _choice. And I want to see them work._

She puffs out her chest and approaches them. Robinclaw stops, tongue mid-rasp over Swiftbreeze's ear. "Hey Mothfoot," she says, twitching her ears, "how was your initiation?"

"It wasn't an initiation, fleabrain!" Swiftbreeze laughs, nudging her friend with her shoulder. "She just went with Marigoldstar on a walk or something, right?"

Mothfoot says, "we went to the Mooncreek, actually. Like Marigoldstar said during the meeting."

The silver she-cat shrugs. "We weren't in the camp when that happened I guess. I think we were hunting."

"So what do you want?" Robinclaw asks bluntly.

"I… I wanted to know if you two were up for a dawn patrol," Mothfoot says, starting to feel the same heat from apprenticehood creep up her spine.

After a brief moment of consideration, Robinclaw says, "a little early, don't you think? We haven't even had any time to stretch our legs or anything."

Beside them, there's the cough of a strained laugh. "Then you better get to stretchin'!" Cackles the elder under the tree. Mothfoot turns her head to look, noticing now that the molly has milky, glazed eyes and is staring somewhere far off. "Deputy said you're on the dawn patrol, you get your tails on the dawn patrol."

"I didn't know you were our mothers…" Swiftbreeze grumbles.

The tawny molly retorts, "I'm old enough to be everyone's mother, youngin'. If anything, I _know_ them all. And if I'm not mistaken, your's wouldn't be too happy to know you're talking back to the Deputy."

The junior warriors narrow their eyes at her. "Whatever," Swiftbreeze hisses. "We'll go." And with that, they storm away.

Mothfoot sighs. "Thank you," she says.

"Not a problem at all," the elder purrs. Her voice crackles, but still has a kind tone to it. "The name is Weaselface."

She bows her head respectfully (though she quickly remembers the elder is blind) and says, "thank you for your service, Weaselface."

Weaselface chokes out another wheezing laugh, "formalities are a joke to me. No one remembers my time serving anyway. All they know is I won't die."

The dry humor makes Mothfoot slightly uncomfortable, but she lets out a sheepish laugh for courtesy. Weaselface's expression turns serious. "You shouldn't let anyone talk to you like that, Mothfoot. They'll get over a quick rasping— _you _on the opposite paw will find it very hard to earn the respect of your Clan if you let them trot all over you."

Mothfoot's ears droop. "Thank you, Weaselface. I appreciate the advice."

"Not an issue at all. Now, you better get goin' and collect the rest of your patrol," Weaselface purrs in response, resting her head on her paws once more.

—

Marigoldstar observes Mothfoot's choices carefully. The lineup consisting of Cinderfur and her apprentice, Swiftbreeze and Robinclaw, Nightsky and Foxtail. "I figured that Littlepaw hasn't been on many patrols and it might take Cinderfur's mind off of her father," Mothfoot explains quietly. "Nightsky and Foxtail can keep an eye on the younger warriors— since Foxtail is about to be titled a senior warrior soon anyway."

"Good choices. Good explanations," Margioldstar nods. "Not too bad for your first try." She addresses the patrol. "Make sure you tighten the border around Riverclan. We need to remind them where we stand. Head out," she says and turns tail to walk away.

Mothfoot follows closely behind, feeling pride grow in her chest from the praise. "I'm so relieved you liked my choices," she chirps, "I put a lot of thought into it and—"

"The Gathering is tomorrow," the golden molly says suddenly. Her whole demeanor seems to switch at once as if the very topic of the Gathering stole her nest. "This is your second assignment. You have until sunrise to give me a list of who should come with us. I don't want any apprentices and as few junior warriors as possible."

A bit stunned, Mothfoot says, "I… I don't think I'm comfortable to organize something so important, ma'am."

The Leader's eyes sharpen. "What makes you think any part of leading is going to take your comfort into consideration?" She asks. When Mothfoot doesn't reply, the molly says, "I don't care who comes to this. My only thing is to stick to senior warriors. Now go, I need to think about what I'm going to say to Heronstar."

Mothfoot pauses, then nods and hurries out of Marigoldstar's den, very confused as to why there's been such a large switch in energy. The voice of Cloudwhisker breaks her thought process.

"Hey," he says coolly, looking her way with a slightly tilted head. "You look tired."

The Deputy laughs awkwardly at his observation. "Well, you know… a full night's worth of travel and all that…"

"Mm." The tom brushes the spot beside where he sits with his tail. "Come rest. I just sent Rainpaw out to do her daily herb collecting."

Mothfoot obliges, plopping down next to the medicine cat and taking a deep breath in and out. "This is a lot already."

"Did you expect it to be easy work?" He asks, amused.

She nudges Cloudwhisker gently, shaking her head and laughing softly to herself. "Not at all. You know me."

The history between Cloudwhisker and Mothfoot stretches back to when they were kits. Cloudwhisker is somewhere around two moons older than her, being swiftly picked out of the nursery by his mentor and sister, the late Laurelbush. Along the long path to becoming the primary medicine cat, Cloudwhisker made it a point to keep close relationships with the warriors to a minimum.

"_It keeps me calm during stressful situations," Cloudwhisker mewed the night of the attack, "staying away from talking to the others." He rested some herbs used on Copperhawk back into their places. "It sounds terrible, but if I can cut off any emotional ties to them, then I can focus on what's important— making sure they live."_

_Mothfoot asked, "doesn't it get lonely?"_

_The white tom shook his head. "Not in the slightest. I have Rainpaw to talk to if I _really _need it. But most of the time I have too much Starclan rattling in my brain to feel alone."_

"_Starclan is _always_ talking in your mind?" Mothfoot questioned, incredulous and with wide eyes._

_Cloudwhisker chuckled and said, "Of course not. They have more important things to deal with than the average medicine cat." He pushed some more plants around, then paused and looked Mothfoot deeply in the eyes. He seemed to search through them, as if he was reading her thoughts. The intensity of his stare made her feel funny. Eventually, he turned away. _

"_I'm glad you were chosen," he admitted, "I feel like we can go back to the way it was."_

Mothfoot opens her mouth to speak. She wants to tell her old friend everything. She wants to tell him about her anxieties and her dream and her worries about Copperhawk, but instead, she just says, "Rainpaw seems to be doing well."

"She is," Cloudwhisker agrees, "she's probably the easiest apprentice I've ever had. The only one who's stuck around, at least," he sighs. "In a couple of moons she'll be ready to become the secondary medicine cat."

"Have you thought of any names?" Mothfoot asks. She has always loved to hear name ideas. When she was Mothpaw and her father was still taking apprentices, the two used to try and guess what his apprentice's name would turn out to be.

Cloudwhisker shrugs. "I feel like Rainfall is cliche," he says, "and Raincloud is too… narcissistic."

"You'll think of something," Mothfoot mews encouragingly. "Maybe it'll come to you in a dream." She purrs and gives him one more nudge.

—

When the dawn patrol returns, the dawn patrol brings chaos. Those Mothfoot carefully chose spill into the camp with a purpose, all looking visibly shaken and scratched up in differing levels of severity. Nightsky seems to try to swallow her emotions and usher the younger cats towards Cloudwhisker's den, Swiftbreeze being the most visibly upset. The tabby wails and tries to break away multiple times from Nightsky in an attempt for the entrance. Foxtail is the last to come into the clearing.

Mothfoot is sitting in the medicine cat den with Cloudwhisker and Rainpaw when Nightsky, Swiftbreeze, and Littlepaw burst in.

"_No!_" Swiftbreeze yowls, "She's _gone!_ She's _ruined!_"

Cloudwhisker gestures sharply to Rainpaw, who immediately knows to dip into the back cave tunnels to fetch as many poppy seeds as her jaws can carry. Mothfoot flattens herself against the stone wall.

Try as the Deputy might to avoid the acknowledgment of the patrol, Swiftbreeze locks on to her and lashes out. "_You_!" the molly hisses, ears as far back as they can go and fur along her spine sticking straight up. "This is _your_ fault!" Swiftbreeze gets into Mothfoot's face and snarls.

Nightsky grabs the she-cat by her tail and yanks her back before any claws can be unsheathed. Mothfoot looks at the senior warrior in horror. The medicine cat apprentice hurries back into the main den and helps Cloudwhisker ease Swiftbreeze into a nest, guiding a paw full of poppy seeds into her mouth. The silver tabby continues to growl and threaten Mothfoot until her eyes fall closed and her breathing slows to an even pace. It isn't until now that Mothfoot notices the gashes along the warrior's side and the large cut along the side of her face. Part of her ear is missing and her paws are stained red.

"What _happened?_" Marigoldstar snaps from the den entrance.

Nightsky straightens. "A fox, ma'am," she explains, "we came across a new den and it was… agitated to say the least at the noise we were making, I assume." Her eyes fall onto the sedated junior warrior. "It's dead. But so is Robinclaw."

"You can't be serious…" Mothfoot says quietly.

Marigoldstar lets out a frustrated noise somewhere between a sigh and a growl. "Where is her body?" The Leader asks.

"Foxtail hung behind to bring it back with us. There aren't any visible… insides," Nightsky shudders, "but she died from an awful bite to the neck. Littlepaw saw nothing, but I figured I'd bring him in just in case." The spotted she-cat nods to Littlepaw, who is laying in the same den as Copperhawk and has Rainpaw slipping him a single poppy seed and comfortingly resting a paw on his back.

Mothfoot strains a bit to see if she can spot Copperhawk.

"Bury Robinclaw as fast as possible," Marigoldstar says blankly. "I've had enough of this."


End file.
